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The Punishment for Taking a Friend Into Your Confidence Is That You Give Him the Right to Give You Advice
Special Features of Interest to Women
THE
KING OF DIAMONDS
EKNcrivtq
You Can Begin This Great Story
Today By Reading This First
Philip Anson is a boy of 15. of fine education and Rood breeding.
bat an orphan and miserably poor.
The story opens with the death of his mother, killed virtually by
sorrow over the death of her husband two years before and subsequent
want and suffering.
Rich relatives have deserted the family In their hour of need, and
when his mother's death conies Philip In despair decided to hang him
self. Just as he Is about to take the suicidal step a wonderful meteor
Plunged from the sky Into the court yard of Philip's honae. He llnds
the meteoric shower has strewn the floor and the court yard of his
house with curious pebbles. He takes some of them to a jeweler
and is told thej are meteoric diamonds. The jetteler advises
philip to lake the stones to Isancsteln. the diamond expert.
Philip did not tell Isaaestein how he secured the diamonds of incalcu
ntlng a robbery, has Philip arrested.lable value, and the expert, see
After a brief hearing, a» which It was proven that Philip could not have
stolen the meteoric diamonds, alnee there was no other collection In
the world like bis, he was remanded for a week, pending further In
vestigation. During the period of bis incarceration an unknown friend
sends Philip substantial meals from outside the prison walls. Before
the week had passed he was discharged from custody. He g€>es directly
from the jail to the diamond expert, Isnacsteln. and engages the expert
to market his precious wares. Isaaestein agree* to pay Philip 5.000
ponnds on aeennnt and advances to him 50 pounds. With the latter
sum Philip starts toward his old lodgings, where the meteor fell.
Now Read On
Copyrisht. 1304. ti Edward J. Clod*.
Continued From Sntnrdny
The human eddy in that throbbing
center of life was sending off its
swirls to all points of the compass,
and the eastbound vehicles were
boarded by an eager crowd almost
before the passengers arriving at the
terminus could descend.
A poor woman, greatly hampered
by a baby, was struggling with others
to obtain a seat in the Mile End road
bus. Philip, coming late on the scene,
saw her swept ruthlessly aside by a
number of men and boys. The con
ductor jerked the bell rope several
times. There was no more room.
The woman, white faced and disap
pointed, looked around with a woebe
gone expression. Philip, who would
have gladly paid for a cab to take
her to her destination, dared do noth
ing of the sort. But he said:
"Keep close to me. I will get you
a seat in the next bus."
"Oh. I wish you would." she said,
with a wan smile. "I am so tired. I
have walked here from Shepherd's
Bush.
"That's a long way to carry a
baby."
"What could I do? People won't
take care of children without pay
ment. I heard I could get work in a
laundry there, so I went to look after
it. There's nothing to be had down
our way. is there?"
"Things turn up suddenly," said
Philip.
"Not for the poor, my lad. I fear
you know that without my telling
you. But you are young, and will
6oon be a man."
V *AO TALE
Her wistful tone went to his heart.
"Didn't you succeed at the laun
"Yes; I ought to b«e thankful. I can
earn nine shillings a week there. I
Start on Monday."
"Isn't your husband at work?"
"He is dead. Poor fellow, he caught
cold last Christmas and was buried in
January. God only knows how I have
lived since. If it wasn't for the kind
ness of neighbors, baby and I would
have starved. I can ill afford this
tuppence, but I can't walk any far
ther."
"Wen, look out now," he said,
cheerily. "Here's our bus."
As the vehicle drew up he caught
the brass rail with his left hand and
warded off assailants with the bundle
under his right arm.
"Quick," he said to the woman, as
soon as the people inside had de
scended. "Jump in."
She essayed to do so. but was rudely
thrust aside by a young man who
had paused on the roof to light a
cigarette. Philip sprang on to the
step and butted the young gentleman
in the stomach with his parcel, caus
ing the other to sit down heavily on
ihe Stairs. The boy caught the
woman's arm with his disengaged
hand and pulled her up. He dived in
after her.
"You voting—" roared the discom
fited smoker.
"'Ere: Come orf of it," said the
conductor. "Why didn't yet git dahn
before? D'ye want a lift?"
Others hustled the protesting one
out of the way.
"Confound the east end, I say," he
growled, as he crossed to the Mansion
house. "What the deuce Lady Louisa
Morland wants to keep on sending me
to that wretched mews for I can't
imagine. Anyway, I can tell her this
time that the place is empty and will
be pulled down next week."
And thus it was that Philip collided
with Messrs. Sharpe & Smith's clerk,
detailed by the anxious Lady Morland
to discover his whereabouts. They
met and bumped Into each other in the
whirlpool of London Just as two ships
might crash together by night in mid-
Atlantic and draw apart with ruffled
feelings or scraped paint, which is
the same thing, without the slightest
knowledge of each other's identity.
Within the omnibus the woman was
volubly grateful. She had a kindly
heart, and timidly essayed questions
as to Philip's relatives, hoping that
she might make their acquaintance.
"I'll be bound now," she said, "that
you have a good mother. You can al
ways tell what the parents are like
When you see the children."
"My mother was, indeed, dear to
me," he replied sadly, again driven
out of himself by the mournful recol
lections thus suddenly induced, "but
she is dead, lost to me forever."
Some people in the bus ceased talk
ing. They were attracted by the strong,
clear voice of this unkempt boy, whose
diction and choice of words were so
outrageously opposed to his garments.
Luckily, the silence warned him, or
his new friend's sympathy might have
brought about an embarrassing posi
tion.
"Poor thing! And is your father
dead, too?"
"Yes. He died long ago."
"Where do you live now?"
"Oh," he said, "I have been staying
in North London, but will leave there
soon, and I have not settled anything
definitely at present. Where is the
laundry you spoke of? I will call some
day, if I may, and learn how you are
getting on."
"I will be so pleased. It is a little
place In James street —the only one
there. Ask for Mrs. Wrigley."
"It Is lucky you understand laundry
work, or things might go hard with
you."
She laughed pitifully.
"I don't! They asked me If I was a
washer or an ironer. I thought wash
ing required least experience, so I
■aid I wash a washer. I am quick to
learn, and will watch ths other
LOUIS TRACY
i "<""«-n. it tney nna me out I may be
discharged."
; "Oh. cheer up," he said, pleasantly.
'"I don't suppose you'll find it very
hard."
Her voice sank almost to a whis
( per.
"It is not the work I dread, but ths
! surroundings. I was a school teacher
: before my marriage. My husband was
an electrical engineer. We put all our
1 savings into a little business, and
I then—the end came."
"Not quite the end. lam only a
! boy, but I've had ups and downs
! enough to know that the beginning
of next week may he a very different
afTair to the end of this. " Goodby."
They were passing the London hos
| pital. and he thought it prudent to
j alight at some distance from John
] son's Mews.
"Well. God ble6s you. anyhow," she
| said, earnestly.
| " E's got 'is 'cad screwed on tight,
j that lad." commented a man sitting
i next to her.
j "Better than that, he has a good
heart." said Mrs Wrigley. Most for
tunate Mrs. Wrigley— to have encoun
tered Philip in that hour, which she
deemed the blackest of her life.
HIS MOTHER
He hastened through the familiar
i bustle of the busy thoroughfare with
: heightened expectancy, it is true, but
; devoid of the least fear that his mc
i teor had been discovered. His mother
i would take good care of it. Why. the
j mere chance remark of the woman he
j had befriended showed that her gentle
j spirit watched over him wherever he
went. Here was a stranger, a sad
toller among the millions, who went
out of her way to praise the goodness
of one she had never seen. He
laughed joyously. Mrs. Wrigley
should have further cause to bless his
mother's memory.
He passed O'Brien's shop. He saw
the old man seated behind the counter.
Should he go in? No. Better keep
wholly to himself at present. Yet he
hesitated. Which was the more ju
dicious course—to remain hidden, un
known, or to drop quietly into the
groove where he was recognized?
With rare perspicacity for one so
youog. he reflected that only five
days had elapsed since he last saw
the old pensioner. The period bulked
largely in Philip's life; in O'Brien's
jit would be as naught.
Yielding to the second thought, he
! entered the shop.
"Glory be to God, Phil, but it's
! miself is glad to see ye." cried his
j old friend. "Where have ye bin to,
jat all, at all? Have yez heard what
| the murtherin' war office is afther
j doing' to me? I haven't had a sowl to
shpake to about the throuble they've
put on me in me owld age."
This was not strictly accurate.
O'Brien had pestered the whole
i neighborhood with the story of his
| withheld pension and the preposterous
claim made on him by some red tape
enthusiast in Pall Mall. But his
plaint effectually stopped all further
reference to Philip's disappearance.
As to the "bit of shtone." that was
"naythur alum nor lime," he hadn't
a word to say.
Philip borrowed a spade, a small
; sweeping brush and a strong sack
| without evoking the slightest com
i ment from the pensioner, who dis
j coursed incessantly on the iniquity
!of the "governmint," and whose fare
j well remark dealt with the attempt
:to rob him of a hundred gowldon
sov'rlns."
Decidedly the boy was in luck's
way. He had secured some necessary
i Implements without attracting any
| attention. Watching a favorable op
• portunity, he slipped unseen into the
i gloom of Johnson's Mews. He tried
! the door of No. 3. It was locked. He
i inserted the key and entered. The
| darkness within was that of utter
; blindness, but he dumped his impedi-
ments on the floor and locked the
' door behind him.
Then he groped his doubtful path to
i the mantelpiece, where he had left a
i candle and a box of matches. His
1 boots crunched as he went, on what
jhe knew to be mostly diamonds, and
he stumbled over the mattress in front
of the fireplace. Yes, the candle was
there. Soon he had a light. The tiny
gleam lifted the black curtain and he
; surveyed his domain. A single glance
showed that all things remained ex-
I actly as he left them on Saturday
| morning. The packet of letters rested
;on the broken chair, the old sack was
stuffed into the window, and the rope
—that never to be forgotten rope—
dangled from the hook to which he
had fastened it.
The sight brought a lump into his
throat. He sank to his knees, pressed
■ down, he felt, by some superior power.
"Mother:" he said, humbly, "forgive
me, and ask God to forgive me, for
I what I wouid have done were you not
I watching over me."
In the spiritual exaltation of the
i moment he almost expected to find
j that sweet face peering at him be
j nignantly from out of the dim back
i ground. But he could not see her. and
i he rose, revivified by this spoken com.
I n.unlon with her. He had no shadow
lof doubt as to her presence. God to
; him was the universe, and his mother
; the unquestionable means of commu
i ni< atlon with the providence that gov
; erned his life. He would die rather
j than abandon that belief. Were it
1 dispelled from his mind he was quite
< ertaln that his wealth Would vanish
. with it. It was no haphazard accident
| which had sent the diamond laden
j meteor headlong from the sky. He
| was despairing, dying; his mother ap
i pealed for him, and behold: the very
elements that control the world
obeyed a mighty behest.
I Continued Tomorrow
Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women
Dainty Lois Meredith Talks on Beneficial Athletics
Miss Meredith in Grecian cos
tume she enjoys.
LILIAN LAUFERTY
DO you know any little girls? Of
course, there are quite a few chil
dren in the world, and I know
numberless young—very young—
ladles, but I have just met a very
sweet little girl and I am going to
introduce her to you. Her name is
Lois Meredith; she is 18, and she was
the popular attraction recently at the
Alcazar theater. Off the stage she
does not play the part of a sophis
ticated young lady—or a "stage fa
vorite"—but fairly dawns on you in
the absolute simplicity of a white
middy blouse, black velvet tam-o'
shanter and the unstudied coiffure ef
fect of a "head running over with
curls."
Of course, the very first question I
asked Miss Lois was one anent
clothes and her Ideal costume.
"I like my middy blouses pretty
well," said she, "so well, in fact, that
I would sacrifice all the sweeties In
the world rather than eat goodies and
get too fat to wear sailor suits. But
my ideal costume is Greek drapery. I
do love the classical lines of drapery
that leave you free and untrammeled,
so you can breathe and move natur
ally and look natural, too. I'd like to
wear layer after layer of chiffon and
sandals and give my whole body a
chance to breathe. Think how wrapped
up and shut away from the health
giving fresh air our poor bodies are.
Well, I wear as few layers as I can—
dispensing with every unnecessary
thing I can—corsets for instance—
and I wear white, so I'll feel cool and
clean, and I try to give my body a
chance to sway and to move freely,
so I will feel all through me how good
it is to be alive.
XO JEWELS
"I don't believe in jewels, either,"
went on- this sensible girl. "If you
are pretty, 'jewels sort of attract at
tention to themselves and away from
you. And if you are not pretty, any
way, showy jewelry makes you con
spicuous, and then people notice how
unattractive you are."
Dainty little Lois Meredith can
afford to believe in "beauty un
adorned," but every 18 year old girl
The Manicure Lady if
reading a funny sounding
I saying in a magazine last night,"
said the Manicure Lady. "At
first I thought it. must be a mistake in
the print, but after I read it over I
guess I understand it. The sentence
said: 'There are lots of things that we
know that we don't know that we
know.' "
"It does sound kind of balled up,"
said the Head Barber. "I can't make
anything out of it."
"It took me about 10 minutes." said
the Manicure Lady. "I wouldn't expect
you to understand it for half a day or
so, so cheer up, George. It will come
to you after a while, maybe. Or if
you want me to explain it, I will do
that little thing for you."
"I guess you'd better explain it,"
said the Head Barber.
"Well," said the Manicure Lady, "It
means that we know a lot of things
that we have forgot or that we never
really knew we understood. There
must be a lot of things that you
learned at school, George, that you
have forgot all about."
"I guess I forgot it all," said the
Head Barber. "I was adding up our
butcher bill last night and added it up
different every time. The Missus never
and the older sister of 20 ought to
ponder the bit of philosophy: "Plain
women are always adding some little
fancy touches that make you notice
how very plain they are:"
"Will you tell me how you spend
Lois Meredith's girlish beauty.
your day ?" T asked. "You must carry
out your theory of simplicity In liv
ing: as well as clothes."
"My thory of living," answered Miss
Meredith. "Is WORK, for everything
worth getting in this world you must
work, work, work. To keep well and
strong, to look attractive and to get
ahead in the profession you have
Chosen ynu must keep working and
striving. In my chosen calling I find
that I have to keep developing my
brain, so I can do better and better
things all the time. I am studying
French and music in the interests of
my brain.
PLENTY OF SLEEP
"Then I take care of my body, too.
Of course, I have to have plenty of
sleep, because I am still growing. I
have never in all my life been to a
restaurant after the theater; most
girls would think that an awful sac
rifice, wouldn't they? Well, then, I get
up at about 9, and have a glass of hot
water, which Is not a bit hard to take
when you keep at it, and then for
about half an hour 1 exercise—
stretching motions, esthetic dancing
movements and bending over, with
my knees held taut and my body
poised. Sometimes I touch my finger
tips to the floor, sometimes I wrap my
went to school any more than I did,
but she got it right every time she
added it. Of course we ain't paid it
yet, but It is nice to know how much
you owe."
"I know a lot of things that I have
forgot," said the Manicure Lady.
"Goodness knows I wasn't no dummy
all the years I was setting at my lit
tle desk In school, and I must have
learned a lot, though none of it has
ever came back to me lately. The old
gent even went so far the other night
as to correct me in my English, and
for once I had to confess that I was
wrong, though that didn't happen
none to often. I said 'between her and
me, and father reminded her and
should have said "between she and I.'
I was glad It was father who cor
rected me, though, and not brother
Wilfred. It seemed to please the old
gent to know that he had been able
to pick a flaw in the usually good
grammar of his worldly daughter."
"There must be a lot of truth in
that sentence you was telling about."
said the Head Barber. "I guess there
Is a lot of people that knows lots of
things they don't know they know.
Some of the guys that come in here
to get shaved certainly act as if they
arms around my legs and see how far
down I can bring my head.
"1 have one little pet exercise: A
very great artist said that I had the
most beautiful hand in America: Now,
I'd like to believe him—even if that
A successful
actress who
believes in
simplicity
and modesty
would be conceited—but, anyway, I
take care of my hands and try to
keep them soft and tapering. I go
through an exercise as if I -were
wringing them and stroking them. I
work at my hands as if I were put
ting on and taking off a new pair
of gloves very carefully. I truly can
recommend this exercise, for Just
think what it made Mr. Gibson say
to me.
"Would you like to hear about my
favorite part?" went on the girl, in
genuously. "Perhaps it would make
a good conclusion to your interview.
My favorite part was Modesty in
'Everywomen.' I thought it a compli
ment to be asked to play that part.
I loved doing it, and I felt that the
only way to play Modesty was to be
modest. That applies to girls every
where, doesn't It? Modesty is always
the sweetest part—and it has to be
true, or people will know."
And I think that is a very good
conclusion for the interview—Mod
esty and the sweet simplicity and
charm that follow in her wake are
the best parts for all girls—only they
must not be parts. Modesty must be
true if you want to be a truly
charming girl.
WILLIAM F. KIRK
didn't know that they knew any
thing. I am glad you told me about
it. too, because after this when any
body tells me J am dumb I will come
right back at them and tell them
about all the things I know that I
don't happen to know I know. That
ought to be some alibi for any fel
low that ia a little funny In his
upper story."
"The only trouble with that kind of
a stall," said the Manicure Lady, "is
that employers usually pays only for
the things people know they know. I
know how to manicure nails, and get
the money for knowing how. But if
I knew how and didn't know that I
knew how I might just as well go
and get a poke bonnet and a tam
borine. 1 wouldn't be no use around
here.
"When you know a thing and know
you know it, like knowing that you
know enough to get In out of the
rain, that is some use to you; but if
you didn't know you knew enough,
you would get soaked. Gee, George,
here it Is lunch time. We certainly
can talk a long time about nothing,
can't we?"
"There's something that you know
you know," said the Head Barber,
"and you said it."
How te Propose
BEATRICE FAIRFAX
BY a most merciful dispensation of
the little god of love, who keeps
all our hearts from going prema
turely into cold storage, there are no
prescribed methods for proposing
marriage. '
It is not a problem whose solution
depends on a knowledge of weights
and measures. "Will you marry me?"
is not a question that requires deep
lore to propound.
A man loves a woman. He can not
tell when love began, ao softly did its
messenger take possession of his
heart. He only knows that he loves,
and, it seems to ..him, dazed by the
great miracle, thai his love had no be
ginning. He is as sure that it has al
ways existed as he is that it will know
no end.
He wants to take possession of the
woman he loves, and he finds neither
moonlight, nor rustic bower, nor shady
dell, nor a boat, nor a seat that holds'
only two, necessary to put his emo
tions and desires into words. A pro
posal is independent of environment.
A man may propose marriage in a
crowded street in the glare of the
midnoon sun, and the music of his
words is as sweet and the lovelight in
her eyes is as warm as if he had set
the stage with all the romantic scen
ery demanded by fiction.
THE IMPORTANT THING
The time, the scenery, the language
he uses, if alone with her or in a
crowd—none of this is important. The
important thing is that he mean
what he says and the saying is not a
habit.
The man who proposes easily and
seriously, who is glib at this most
holy of declarations, has told too
many women he loves them to be
trusted. It is a situation when man
ner means more than words. It is
not necessary that he say much. But,
oh, may merciful heaven protect the
girl if he doesn't mean the little he
says!
It is neither eloquence, nor fervor,
nor grace of speech or manner that
matters. All that matters is Sincer
ity. Just one little word, Sincerity!
Not a sincerity he thinks he feels, but
one that he KNOWS he feels, and that
he Knows he will feel so long as life
lasts.
If there are those who must have
a prescribed form, making of love a
matter so light it admits of rehearsal,
let them read what the immortal
Pickwick advised his friend Magnus.
After telling Magnus he must com
mend the lady's worthiness, deplore
his own unworthlness, and expatiate
on the warmth of his love, he advises
him to seize her hand.
"You should then." continued Mr.
Pickwick, "come to the plain and sim
ple question, 'Will you have me?' I
think I am justified in assuming that,
upon this, she would turn her head."
"You think that may be taken for
granted," said Mr. Magnus, "because
if she did not do that at the right
place, It would be embarrassing."
MR. PICKWICK'S ADVICE
"I think she would," said Mr. Pick
wick. "Upon this, sir, I should
THINK, Mr. Magnus—that after I had
done that, supposing there was no re
fusal, I should gently draw away the
handkerchief that my slight knowl
edge of human nature leads me to
suppose the lady would be applying
to her eyes at the moment, and steal
a respectful kiss. I think I should
kiss her. Mr. Magnus, and at this par
ticular point, I am decidedly of opin
ion that if the lady were going to
take me at all, she would murmur
into my ears a bashful acceptance."
If the methods advised by Dickens
are too old fashioned, a book thrown
on the mercies of the public last
month gives a more modern form.
John Hodder, the hero of "On the
Inside of the Cup." a minister, and
poor, loves the daughter of his most
wealthy parishioner. They go for a
walk in the woods.
*' For she had put her own
hand out. not shyly, but with a
movement so natural it was but the
crowning bestowal.
"Allison!" he cried. "I can't ask It
of you. I have no right."
"You are not asking it," she an
swered. "It is I who am asking it."
The girl proposed!
But what matters who, or when,
or how, or what, so that the WHY
is all right?
j THE TINIEST PICTURE |
Mr. Samuel Schultz, who has a
scenic and mural painting sfudio at
Wilmington, in Delaware, has won,
despite a lifetime spent in painting
subjects in heroic size, the unique dis
tinction of having made the smallest
landscape painting in the world.
This picture was executed on a
grain of corn, and the painter has
only now recovered it after having
lost possession of it for more than 40
years. Having lost track of the pic
ture, which he made in 1869, when he
was only 19 years old, Sehultr decided
recently to try to recover it.
He advertised In several foreign
newspapers, with the result that the
tiny landscape came to him in its
original frame a few days ago. the
painting, in color and line, being as
sharp and clear as on the day of its
execution.
The particular grain of corn used
came from an ear that Mr. Schultz as
a lad picked on the estate of James
Buchanan, fifteenth president of the
United States, at Wheatland, Pa He
had gone there to attend the former
president's funeral, and plucked the
ear of corn as a souvenir. As for the
picture itself, a well known artist,
who saw it many years ago. declared
it was a masterpiece of miniature
painting.
A Bachelor's Diary
HE AND THE NURSE TRY TO BE "JUST CHUMS"
Continued from Saturday.
SO we had and had quite forgot
ten that we started out to spend
the day together as two girl or
two boy chums might do, and had
showed a miserable jealousy at the
first opportunity.
"If we were two girls," she went on,
"and you had a friend who wanted to
meet me, you would introduce us. And
it would be the same if we were two
boys."
"But we are not," I retorted. "There
is no use pretending. Here we were
having such a nice day of it, and you
have spoiled it by being a pretty girl.
Why can't you be an ugly girl, since
you can't be a man? Why db you have
to get that fascinating light in your
eyes and that pretty color in your
cheeks and look good enough to eat,
and make men admire you, and spoil
things for us? You women are cer
tainly trying."
"Why," putting her hand in my arm
and looking up into my face with a
tantalizing laugh that made the situ
ation harder for me, "can't you be a
good chum for a girl for just one day?
Why do you always be Just a selfish,
jealous man?"
"Because," bending my head very
close to hers and speaking so close
to her ear I could have kissed her in
doing it, "you are a woman!"
It was then, after we had blamed
each other for the eternal domination
of sex and were standing still laugh
ing about it, that the man from whom
I had run away with the nurse to
avoid giving him an introduction to
her, bumped into us.
He didn't pass on, as any decent
man would have done. He stood there
and I had to introduce him, and when
I did it I saw the most wicked little
look of amusement in my pretty com
panion's eye.
AN INVITATION
He was going to lunch, he said, and
would we be his guests? I replied
somewhat savagely that we were go
ing to the waxworks show, and didn't
expect to dine for an hour, and the
nurse interrupted me by declaring
that she was starving to death and
wanted to eat right now.
"You haven't bought me a thing to
eat today," with a childlike disap
pointment that was most becoming,
"not even a lollypop."
We went to lunch with this most
impudent man, and while we were at
the table she completely spoiled what
remained of the day by telling him
that we had started out with $2 in
my pockets and 5 cents in hers to see
how much fun we could buy, and in
viting him to be our guest for the
rest of the day.
"I think," I broke in on his eager
acceptance, trying to assume an ex
pression that was wan and weary, "I
will telephone for my car and go
home. My heart isn't behaving quite
right."
Blessings on the head of the man
who discovered that when a man's
heart isn't strong he should never be
crossed! The pretty nurse neglected
the dessert, nibbled at the salad, and
lost all appetite for anything else in
her concern for me. When I refused
"Let Your Mirror Be Your
Beauty Critic"
Says Julian Eltinge
"Study color effects in dress. Get
plenty of fresh air and avoid anything
which tends to make you angular,"
is the advice of famous impersonator
of feminine characters coming to th"c
Columbia theater, who weighs 165
pounds, but wears a 23 inch corset on
stage.
It is difficult to realize that the pic
tures on this page are really por
traits of one and the same person,
and credulity is taxed to the crack
ing point when we are asked to be
lieve that these various types of
feminine loveliness, full of grace and,
delicacy, are but counterfeits of the
mere man whose masculine likeness
is shown in the group, yet such is the
startling truth. The name of the
"imposter" is Mr. Julian Eltinge.
The nature of Julian Eltinge's exhi
bitions naturally arouses women pa
trons with the keenest curiosity re
garding the secrets by which he
adeptly transforms his thoroughly
masculine features and figure.
He weighs 165 pounds, but the 38
inch waist magically fades to a 23
inch circumference. On the subjects
of "makeup." gowns, hats, hair dress
ing, corsets, shoes, complexion, del- j
sarte, physical culture exercises and j
diet, Eltinge, as the "Woman Beauti- J
ful," is the highest authority.
So great has grown the demand for I
his "secrets" that Eltinge has pub
lished a magazine full of hints. A
brief summary is given herewith:
"My stays are regulation, girth
measurement 38 inch; waist encom
passed by a 23 inch corset; a hair
dresser 'fixes' my wigs at each per
formance; French heels compel me to
'< walk like a lady; T use common flour
j instead of powder," says Eltinge.
IHe says further: "It requires two
I valets to get me into my corsets, and
I am always breathing. Sleep is my
hardest exercise, and I diet during the
day and eat like a horse after the
performance. My favorite sport is
prize fighting. The impersonations I
give are composite studies of the pe
culiarities of women of all nationali
ties.
j "Plump women may be as graceful
as the slender. Avoid anything which
tends to make you angular. Don't per- |
nut your mirror to flatter you. Use it j
his offer to go home in his car and
he had- gone to telephone for mine,
she placed her hand very profession
ally on my pulse. If she detected
any symptoms of hypocrisy she said
never a word, and seemed as glad to
get me into my own car and to say
goodby to our host as if this ending
had been a part of our day's plans.
It was not till we had left him,
looking much disappointed at our de
parture, and had safely turned the
corner out of his range of vision that
she began to laugh. And she kept it
up all the way home.
"Poor, dear boy," she said when
we were nearlng our door, "and poor
dear girl. No use in them trying
to go off and spend a day together
like two good girl or two good boy
chums. He's a man, and low down
jealous."
"And she," I replied, "is a woman,
and tries to make him jealous. Why
couldn't you refuse that invitation to
lunch and be satisfied to spend the
day with me?"
"Because," wisely, "I'm a woman.
Why couldn't we have had him with
us the rest of the day and have had
as good a time?"
"Because," with an air of finality,
"I am a man."
"I think perhaps my old friends,
Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spencer, who have
been abroad almost a year, may re
turn next month," I remarked that
evening, putting cushions under my
head and raising myself Into a po
sition where I could get a better view
of her.
ALONE ONCE MORE
We were in the library alone; Rich
ards had taMQn Manette to bed, and
I had been trying to read, finding
nothing in the paper quite as interest
ing as the face of the pretty woman
who was seated in a low reading chair
near the table.
No reply.
"I think you will like her."
Still no answer. "I think," a little
louder, "that you will like Sally
Spencer."
She dropped her book and looked at
me with the strangest look in her
eyes.
"Come here, Little Girl," I said, "and
tell me what is troubling you."
She came slowly across the room
and sat on the lounge beside me, bend
ing over me to adjust a cushion a
little more comfortably under my
head, making no reply to my appeals
to know what troubled her.
"What's the matter?" I repeated,
trying to get her to look me in the
face. "Do let the cushions alone,"
querulously, "it's not necessary to
baby me like that."
She put a hand on each side of mi*
face and held me that way while she
looked steadily into my eyes.
VERY UNEXPECTED
"I hate her." she said. Then bend
ing over so close I hoped for what
might happen next, she suddenly
changed her mind, gave me a quick
slap on the cheek, and ran from the
room.
Shall I. Diary, or shall I not, write
to Sally SDencer to come home?
as a critic. Study color effects in dress.
Don't resemble a barber pole, nor look
like a bottle of milk. Get plenty of
fresh air."
Julian Eltinge began his stage ca
reer at college. When the Hasty Pud
ding club of Boston produced "Miss
Simplicity" on a spectacular scale they
were unable to find any one to enact
the title role until Eltinge was "tried
out." When it was suggested that he
wear corsets he declined to take the
part. He was willing to wear girls'
wings and gowns, but not corsets.
Finally he was persuaded to make up
like a "perfect lady." From his first
appearance as "Miss Simplicity" his
triumph was electrical. Vaudeville
managers offered him inducements
and he began his stage, career.
During July and August Eltinge
goes abroad to get the Paris idea of
the latest styles in feminine apparel,
for much of his success has come
through his rule to introduce first of
all to American audiences the coming
season's modes.
Off the stage Eltinge la a masculine
chap with a boyish smile and nature
at once warm and sympathetic. His
success in "The Fascinating Widow."
in which he is scheduled to appear at
the Columbia theater for seven nights
beginning this Sunday night, has been
fairly phenomenal and the greatest
ever achieved by a man in feminine
roles.
No one who
has ever used Xi
it hat anything
— but praise for OH
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